


What Lies in a Long Life

by quarterweeb



Series: Yuu've got a question! [2]
Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Reader-Insert, also i love silver, from lilia ;-), honestly most of the word count on this story is flashbacks, i know reader and yuu are listed separately but this is a, me loving lilia? a given, yuu and deuce: good friends i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quarterweeb/pseuds/quarterweeb
Summary: “Back already?” a voice calls, the very voice you are looking for.After all, you have a question, and the only person who can answer that question is a fangy bat grandpa in the body of a small child.-Your question of the day today:How many historical figures has Lilia seduced?
Relationships: Lilia Vanrouge/Original Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Silver & Lilia Vanrouge
Series: Yuu've got a question! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884787
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	What Lies in a Long Life

**Author's Note:**

> the user cloverbomb commented on lilia's wikia page, and i quote:  
> 
>
>> how many historical figures have you seduced my good sir. this is very important the public needs to knwo
> 
> you are right, cloverbomb! the public does need to know!! and that's why i wrote this fic :-) 

“It’s...kind of dark in here,” Deuce says, eyeing the stonework of the Diasomnia castle warily.

Yeah, it _is_ kinda dark in here. It’s apparently not enough that the outside of the Diasomnia looks like a final boss location: the interior must also have “abandon hope, all ye who enter here” vibes. You lean as close to Deuce as you can without pressing your shoulders together, even though you feel like he wouldn’t mind if you did.

Deuce doesn’t have any reason for tagging along with you; you’d asked him to come with you, after hearing something weird from another schoolmate of yours. Because Deuce is a wonderful friend (much better than Ace, you think, just in case he’s listening in telepathically), he’d agreed to accompany you to Diasomnia’s Haunted Mansion of a dorm.

Deuce closes the distance between you, his arm brushing yours as you walk down the short hallway to the dorm’s common room. “Why are we here again?” he asks.

“Because there’s something I need to know! That’s why,” you respond. “I need to sate my curiosity.” Your steps echo heavily, the sound bouncing back and forth along the angles of the high ceilings.

“That doesn’t seem like a good enough reason,” Deuce mumbles.

“Back already?” a voice calls, the very voice you are looking for.

After all, you have a question, and the only person who can answer that question is a fangy bat grandpa in the body of a small child.

Lilia Vanrouge is sitting with his legs over the armrest of a chair with a very long back. He’s holding something that looks suspiciously like a Nintendo Switch. His expression turns to one of surprise once he actually looks to see who’s come in.

“Ah, I was mistaken. It’s the ramshackle dorm’s prefect and their black-suited friend.” Lilia pauses his game and sets it aside. There is no _way_ that’s not a Nintendo Switch. Where do you get your hands on one of those in this parallel universe?

He turns to sit in the chair correctly, dwarfed by the giant seat. “If you are searching for our illustrious dorm leader, then I must inform you he’s out at the moment. Wandered off, I’m afraid, with Sebek and Silver hot on his tail. You’ll have to wait until they manage to corral him back here, and that could take an hour, at least.” Lilia sighs fondly. “He’s been a slippery one since the day he was hatched. I had hoped he’d grow out of it, but...ah, well. Such is the nature of fae to flit about.”

You shift from foot to foot, not sure exactly how to approach this. “Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Is that so?” He leans forwards, his gaze fixed on you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It was just—there was a question I wanted to ask you.”

“I see.” Lilia nods thoughtfully. “Have you finally come to seek Malleus’s hand? Looking for my blessing, perhaps? I warn you, my standards are quite high. Not just anyone can serve as consort to the crown prince of fairies.”

You blush and stammer. Who told him you had any romantic intentions towards Malleus of all people? Sure, he’s super hot and decently nice. You happen to like him a lot. But like-liking him? Dating him? _Marrying_ him, and ruling a whole country by his side? Of course not! You can assure Lilia, your feelings for Malleus are purely platonic—

“Hmm, I’m just joking with you.” Lilia gives you a mischievous smile before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. “Ask away, then. I’ll try my very hardest to answer honestly.”

Deuce is looking right back at you when you shift your eyes his way. It seems he was also fooled by Lilia’s stern marriage talk. You clear your throat and continue.

“You’ve...lived pretty long, right? Been to a lot of different places? Met a lot of different people?”

Lilia nods slowly, almost drowsily. “I would say that is true, yes.”

“How many famous people have you met?”

Lilia opens his eyes so he can squint. “Famous by what standards?”

“Like...” You flounder for the right words.

“Like celebrities?” Deuce suggests. “Or like, in history?”

“Yeah! Historically famous. Like, people you’d read about in a textbook.”

Lilia puts a hand to his chin. “I couldn’t give you a number. My memory is quite poor. But I can say that I was acquainted with some who would fit that description.”

Deuce is looking at you like _where are you going with this?_ But honestly, you think he might stop you if he knew where you were going with this, so you plow ahead.

“So, um. Now that that’s out of the way.” You clear your throat again. “Out of those people....how many have you, you know....s-seduced?”

Lilia’s already huge blood-red eyes grow to the size of saucepans. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that to be the question.

Deuce turns to give you the full-face “you’ve gone completely insane” glare. Clearly he’s wondering what could have possessed you to ask your advanced grandpa of a senpai such a personal question. And you promise you have a good reason! Sort of.

* * *

“Wow, Malleus was right!” you said to yourself, tapping the photo inside of your textbook.

The portrait your finger was on was little more than a sketch, coarse black lines criss-crossing around the edges of the subject. And the person themself looked different: closely cropped hair, a softer face and a colder expression. But there was no mistaking it for anyone else: Lilia Vanrouge was staring back at you from the page. Underneath the picture, the caption read: _A rendering of the fae queen’s general, known only as “Vanguard”._

The Lesser Fae War, the war this sketch was taken during, was around 75 years ago. That fit with your current theory that Lilia’s lived for about a century. It was a long time, but you’d learned since entering the Wonderland that fae lived much longer than humans anyways, so it wasn’t surprising. What _was_ surprising was the fact that Lilia was apparently a talented soldier in the prime of his life. Lilia, the light music club member. Lilia, who loves hanging upside down and scaring people. Lilia, who by Trey’s account nearly blew up the alchemy lab last week after guesstimating measurements for all the ingredients.

Summoned by the name of his lord Malleus, Silver peeked over your shoulder from where he was sitting next to you.

“Ah, it’s the old man,” he said, shuffling his chair closer to yours.

It’s an open secret that Lilia is Silver’s dad. At least, it is for you. You’re pretty sure that no one else has picked up on it yet, which does not bode well for their observational skills. Silver isn’t subtle, and neither is anyone else in the nuclear Diasomnia fae-mily.

“Your dad seems like a pretty cool guy,” you said, meeting him halfway and pushing the book between the two of you.

Silver nodded. “He’s a decorated veteran of many of the Fae Wars that involved the dragon fae. I learned everything I know about combat from him.”

You wondered if it was weird for Silver to go to school with his dad, but then you thought about how fondly he always speaks of Lilia and the thought was dispelled.

“Must’ve been hard going into parenthood after being a soldier all his life.”

“Oh, he wasn’t a soldier his whole life.”

That gave you pause. “Really?”

“He’d lived for a long time before he took me in, and before this drawing was made. He’s even met some of the people in this book.”

Silver’s callused hand came next to yours, and slowly flipped to a different section of the book, one discussing the Flowering Truce between the Rose Kingdom and the Violet Tribe.

He pointed to a painting of a woman with huge curly red hair and deep brown skin. She bore a shocking resemblance to Riddle. “The Queen of the Fourteenth Rose Kingdom, Dionna Rose. She did a lot of charity work, handing out alms for the poor in person, and at that time the old man was a wandering beggar. She liked his wit so much that she made him a court jester and, later, her advisor. He gets really nostalgic when he talks about her.”

You scanned the text for a date, and found one: 200 years ago. That threw off your theories a bit.

“How old _is_ Li—uh, your dad?

“I don’t know. He’s never told me. But he has many interesting stories.” Silver lowered his already quiet voice. “There are some things the old man’s done that he won’t even tell me about.”

You leaned in closer, your faces almost touching over the book. “Like what? Like...”

“I don’t know. He always says it wouldn’t be proper to tell me, or I might start misusing my charm and good looks. Whatever that means.”

You assumed a thinking pose, though you didn't have to think long to put the pieces together. But before you could share your conclusions, Trein’s low drone interrupted. Oh, wait, you _are_ in class.

“Would the two of you like to rejoin our session,” he drawled, “or have you already memorized the leaders of the Tinker Fae monarchy?” In his arms, Lucius meowed disapprovingly.

You broke away from your neighbor, grumbling. There was no doubt in your mind that Lilia was talking about something raunchy. Something _juicy._ Whatever it was, though, you wouldn't be learning it from Silver; you'd have to go directly to the source.

* * *

Lucky for you, your impromptu flashback has spared you the crushing awkwardness of a room shocked into silence. You chance a glance at Deuce, who looks like he’ll bolt if no one says anything for another minute. Something in the fireplace pops, and Lilia suddenly bursts out laughing.

You and Deuce stand there for a frankly humiliating amount of time while Lilia wheezes and cackles. If he had a cane like other old people do, no doubt he’d be thumping it heartily on the floor. Every time you think he’s about to stop laughing, he opens his eyes, catches sight of you and Deuce frozen there like chumps, and gets himself started all over again.

Deuce elbows you. “Why did you think this was a good idea?” he hisses.

You nudge him back. “We’re probably safe.”

Luckily you are right, and Lilia does not reduce the both of you to ashes once he finally collects himself. He wipes at the tears beading in his eyes, out of breath. “What an impertinent question! You young people are so bold nowadays!”

Literally how does anyone think this man is a third-year when he calls other students “you young people”? He’s possibly the least best camouflaged grandpa you’ve ever met, which isn’t saying much since you’ve only met the one.

“If you’re truly interested, though, I suppose I could pull something from the dusty shelves of my mind.”

He waves at you to pull up some of the smaller chairs, and Deuce (what a gentleman) grabs two and sets them in front of Lilia's small throne. You sit in the one offered to you and eagerly scooch up close.

"Now, let me see. I couldn’t tell you when exactly it was, but I remember the ball like it was yesterday..."

* * *

The annual ball was such a dreary affair. The same faces, the same dances. Quite honestly, King Alden was bored.

From his perch on the staircase, he surveyed the wide open space and the wealth of nobles milling about. Despite being born into his station, Alden had never cared much for the aristocracy. Their words were too rigid, their movements too stilted. It was all so...stiff.

It was why, when he became king, he’d chosen a commoner as his queen consort. Tate was gorgeous: strong arms and a soft voice, sun-bleached hair and such a wicked mouth. She was his paradise, away from the frigid air of the high-class automatons he was meant to interact with.

For any other event, Alden would already have run off with his queen to some secluded room, but the kingdom of Iloura’s yearly gathering was always attended by his parents and their eyes followed him everywhere. Although they had ceased to rule Iloura as soon as Alden turned 22, they took their positions as Alden’s advisors and leash-yankers incredibly seriously. 

Alden sighed as his mother, still intimidating across the giant room, met his eyes. She made a series of gestures that Alden could infer the meaning of. Blowing his coppery hair out of his eyes, Alden descended back into the crowd of people.

The Duke of Ither, here, who wanted to talk fish trade relations: no. The crown princess of the Jewel Principality, trying to flirt with him again: no. His own father, who beckoned with an aged finger: certainly not. There was no one in this crowd that Alden wanted to associate with, and absolutely no one who could—

Alden collided head-on with some unseen thing, and fell backwards onto the floor. Cold shocked him as a thick wine soaked through his embroidered waistcoat. Around him, the crowd parted, and the bright chandeliers spawned a halo around the head of the figure offering their hand.

“My apologies, your majesty. I’m afraid you caught me quite off guard,” the figure purred in a deliciously raspy voice. They pulled him to his feet. Alden blinked the sparkling lights out of his eyes.

The person in front of Alden was much shorter than him, with pale, creamy skin. Their hair was glossy, long but choppily cut, and with a few plaits trailing into their ponytail. Alden could see the sharp tips of their ears peeking through strands of deep black hair.

They hadn’t let go of his hand, and now brought it to their lips to kiss his fingers. Alden was frozen by the steady, slitted gaze; he gasped at the feeling of fangs behind thin lips. “I am the Count Aieir Vanlisse, and I am visiting from the Thorn Kingdom.” The count smirked, and Alden was blessed with the sight of those fangs, so impossibly sharp. “I can only pray my grievous error has not left too poor a first impression.”

“No,” Alden said hoarsely, and cleared his throat as quietly as he can. “The blame lies with me.”

“Your majesty need not spare my feelings,” Vanlisse laughed gently.

The rest of the party slowly began to move around them, and the count dropped his hand. Alden still felt caught, though, ensnared by those _teeth._

He let his eyes wander across Vanlisse’s form. They sounded like a man, and used a masculine title, but their features were exceedingly fragile. Their ensemble, too, leaned in neither direction. Count Vanlisse wore a man’s tailcoat, but their simple waistcoat lay under a half-corset and led into a long, loose skirt. Perhaps this was typical for dragon fae? It was incredibly attractive regardless.

“I fear we’re impeding the dancers. May I remove your majesty from the middle of the room?” Vanlisse asked, offering their arm. “And perhaps you could find cleaner garments to change into.”

Alden allowed himself to be pulled from the middle of the room by this entrancing being. His mother caught his eye, and Alden immediately turned away. Whatever she was going to say to him, he didn’t want to hear.

“Where can I take your majesty?” Vanlisse asked.

_Against a wall, preferably,_ Alden thought immediately, and smirked to himself. Next to him, the count chuckled as something. “In my quarters, if you wouldn’t mind, Count Vanlisse. I’ll show you the way.”

And then Alden was the one leading the count to his chambers, almost overeager, inviting them in once they arrived at the door. The count deposited him on the bed and made to leave when Alden grabbed their wrist.

They didn’t startle. “Your majesty....” The words rolled off their lips and through Alden’s ears. 

The count slowly backtracked, fitting themself between Alden’s knees and placing their other hand on his cheek. Their crimson eyes were half-lidded, their lips parted; the very tips of those fangs glistened in the darkness of their mouth. Alden licked his dry lips, and gleefully watched the Count’s eyes follow the motion of his tongue.

They stroked over Alden’s wet mouth with a thumb. “I would hate to misinterpret your majesty—”

“You’re not,” Alden breathed.

“—or to be the cause of any scandal.”

They were probably thinking about Tate. How sweet of them, this kind soul hiding behind the teeth of a predator. Alden laughed.

“The Queen Consort is well aware of my...habits,” he said, and pressed his tongue forward just enough to lick the tip of the count’s thumb.

The count shivered and drew his hand back. Alden experienced an intense quarter-second of panic before a mouth was on his, pushing a— _oh_ —a split tongue into his mouth.

Alden pushed back, licked across the fangs he’d been eyeing and tasted blood before he felt any pain. Vanlisse sucked on his tongue. Alden moaned.

Vanlisse’s hands wandered across Alden’s body. From his face, to his neck, to the damp stain of wine on his stomach, they danced down and up. They worked swiftly, undoing all the buttoning and draping and fastening that a team of servants had completed just an hour prior.

“I hope you intend to repay me for the clothing you’ve ruined,” Alden managed.

“You need not hope, your majesty,” they said, finally pushing Alden back onto the bed. “I’ll be ruining more than that.”

The king would have quite the exciting story to regale his queen with in the morning.

* * *

"Of course, by that time, I had already been with Alden’s queen consort on more than one occasion. Tate was a shy thing, about my height and with the softest blond hair, but she had _such_ an appetite. She was rather pleased when she discovered my affair with her husband, and so I played a kept man for them both for a number of months. I can confidently say they were the most physically tiring months of my lifetime, before I was tasked with caretaking children. The king and his wife demanded much of me in all aspects."

Lilia chuckles nostalgically, while you and Deuce try to pick your jaws up off the floor because _what in the hell._

“That’s—” You feel like you’ve forgotten how to speak. “That’s all true?”

“You’re free to check behind me if you like,” Lilia grins, taking a giant smartphone from his pockets and shaking it. “I might’ve missed something in my retelling.”

Deuce is still gaping, but both of you straighten up at the sound of a loud voice behind you. 

“Master Lilia, we have returned!”

“Quiet down, Sebek,” you hear his companion yawn in response.

You and Deuce turn to see Silver and Sebek emerging from the Diasomnian vestibule. Curiously, Malleus is nowhere to be seen.

“Couldn’t find him?” Lilia says from behind you.

“That is correct, sir! We searched every location Lord Malleus is known to frequent and found nothing!”

Lilia chuckles. “Well, if you wait at the door, you’ll be able to keep an eye out.”

Sebek salutes rigidly. “Of course, sir!”

Silver trudges up to Lilia’s chair as Sebek stomps out in the other direction. He nods to you and Deuce in greeting before promptly collapsing in Lilia’s lap. Lilia cradles his limp upper body, albeit with some difficulty.

“Oh, dear.” Lilia tucks Silver’s head under his chin and runs his fingers through Silver’s sleek hair. “Well, I suppose it’d be alright to let him rest for a bit after walking around so much.”

You take that moment to excuse yourselves, not wanting to overstay your welcome. You hear Lilia start humming as you leave, and as you glance back you see Lilia rocking Silver back and forth, his eyes closed.

* * *

As soon as you get back to the Hall of Mirrors, you and Deuce pull out your phones.

“He was probably tricking us,” Deuce says, even as he pulls up a search engine that looks suspiciously like Yahoo. “Right?”

You pull up the evil version of Google and, predictably, get faster results. Vibrating with anticipation, you click on the twisted Wikipedia for KIng Alden of Iloura and follow the hyperlink to “Personal Life: Scandals.”

Wow. There is a _lot_ of text here. Obviously, this Alden guy was not the most upstanding, or at least didn’t know how to keep it in his pants.

You scroll through, looking for anything suspicious, catch the words “fae lover” and quickly scroll back up.

"I found it, I found it!” You smack Deuce on the shoulder, and he looks over yours. “Listen to this: ‘Alden and his queen consort Tate were rumored to have a fae lover, described by housekeeper Claudia Fellsworth as “quite gracious to servants and nobles alike; a lithe, small man, of which only a sliver has been seen by the maids of the palace.” Little is known about this mysterious paramour, but he appears to have disappeared from court before the palace in Iloura was attacked by a faction of the dragon fae. It has been inferred by many historians that this fae lover was actually an agent of the dragon fae collecting information on the kingdom.’”

Deuce blinks, and then it registers. “That’s Lilia.”

“There’s no way. There’s no way!” You shake Deuce so hard you think you hear something rattle. “Deuce, this was, like, _900 years ago._ ”

Deuce’s bright turquoise eyes go wide, and he grabs your phone hand so he can look at the webpage as well. He scrolls back up and you both read the date of the prince’s reign again.

“Yeah, that’s...”

“878 years ago,” you finish, nodding numbly. "Is that normal for fae?"

Deuce shakes his head. "Not that I know many fae, but all the famous ones they teach you about in primary school didn't live nearly that long....200 years, maybe?"

Silence floats between the two of you as you hover near the mirror to Heartslabyul.

You click your tongue resolutely. “We can’t tell anybody this.”  
“We definitely can’t tell anybody this.”

_Least of all Silver,_ you think. You’re sure knowing who his father’s past sexual partners are is not one of his priorities. “So, then...”

Deuce sets his jaw. “We die with this information?” 

He sounds gravely serious. You wonder how much other information he’s sworn to die knowing and not telling.

“Fine by me. Hopefully I’ll forget it before then, though.”

Deuce gives you a look that says _we both know that’s not going to happen,_ and he’s right, but you can dream. Maybe you want to pretend you won’t be haunted by the irrefutable knowledge that one of your upperclassmen is literally a millennial (or even past the 1000-year mark!) and _definitely_ fucks.

Now you’ve just got more questions. Why has Lilia lived so long? Is he _immortal?_ How has Lilia withheld his name from so many people, despite taking part in multiple notable events? Is Lilia Vanrouge even his real name, or did he have to adopt a different one every hundred years to keep from tipping off historians? When did he gain custody of Malleus? Wait, how old _is_ Malleus?

The only thing that pulls you from the dark spiral of your own insatiable inquisitiveness is the stormy aura coming off Deuce. Clearly he’s having the same thoughts.

“Hey.” You bump his shoulder to yours. “We’re thinking about it too hard.”

“Yeah,” he says, but you can still see those rusty gears a-turnin’, and you’ve got to jam something in there.

“...you know, we could probably get Ace to stop working on that essay and play a card game with us.”

As per usual, just the mention of Ace is enough to derail Deuce’s normal train of thought. “So he can beat us in Egyptian Ratscrew _again? ”_

“He may have beat _me,_ but at least I didn’t get my ass demolished like you did.”

Deuce reddens indignantly. “A-as if you didn’t get crushed in Baccarat last week!”

“That’s a luck-based game anyways!”

You argue all the way back to the Heartslabyul common room, and as you predicted, Ace is all too happy to ditch his essay to mess around with you.

**Author's Note:**

> working title was "lilia fucks" 😜
> 
> kudos, bookmarks, and comments are always appreciated! i love positive reinforcement, and i love talkin to y'all :3 how old do u think lilia is, and what other kinda stuff do u think he's gotten up to in that time? much to think about 🤔
> 
> this is not a silver-centric story but please read some of silver’s [voice lines](https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Silver/Voice_Lines) and [personal stories](https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Silver/Personal_Story) if u have a chance! I just think he's lovely, lilia raised him right :-) 
> 
> finally, please [come talk to me!](https://twitter.com/quarterweeb)


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